Ten heroes and heroines are up against unknown forces of darkness—good thing they all have supernatural skills and abilities—it's just too bad that not all of them are sure what to do with them yet. Powerful allies are hard to come by and lines are blurred when it becomes difficult to tell friend from foe. Delve in to ten unique worlds full of vampires, witches, mages, dream-stalkers, fallen deities, monsters and even super heroes! Supernatural skills may be enough to save them... but only if they can figure out how to wield them in time.

All stories are first in a series!

Cursed by Fire by Danielle Annett: Vampires and shifters vie for control of Spokane, Washington, and Aria Naveed is right in the middle of the fire.

Message Bearer by M.S. Dobing: Seb is a fledging mage, able to manipulate reality, and he alone carries the message that could change the course of the conflict forever

Unhidden by Dina Given: It’s not always easy to differentiate between the good guys and the bad guys, especially when your heroine is a trained killer and she may be falling in love with her evil hunter…

No More Black Magic by A.L. Kessler: Explosions, bodies and black magic are just part of a typical day at this agency.

Power Surge by E.J. Whitmer: From ordinary to extraordinary in just one week. It's a good thing she looks great in spandex.

Brooding City by Tom Shutt: A police detective is confronted with his own past crimes as a dream-stalker even as he takes on a greater evil.

Altered by Amy Steaman: A pretty law student's life is changed forever by a mysterious stranger when desire, possession, and treachery lead Sadie down a crooked path to redemption

Emergence by Siana Wineland: Valkyries invade the Pacific NW, in a contagion. What's a girl to do when she finds she's been infected and sprouting wings happens to be a side affect.

A Time Apart by Rebecca N. Caudill: A vampire and a woman who couldn't be more different, realize that destiny has brought them full circle.

Familiar by Frances Pauli: A beautiful small-town witch teams up with a sexy cop to take on a demon.

Available to purchase at

Excerpts

Cursed
by Fire by Danielle Annett

All I saw was blood. Blood soaked
my hands and coated the walls. It stained the concrete flooring of the
abandoned warehouse and dripped from fixtures that hung from the ceiling,
trickling like a slow rain. My vision blurred as anguish filled me. How could
this have happened? How could I have been too late?

I stared down at the lifeless body
of a child. A boy. Kneeling in a pool of congealing blood, I ran my fingers
through his chestnut hair, ignoring the now-cool moisture seeping into the
denim of my pants. His face was unrecognizable. Gone was the child with the
dimpled cheek and brilliant blue eyes. Left behind was a mass of flesh and bone—a
ruined body drained of its life force at such a young age.

Reality snapped like an elastic
band, bringing me back to the present as I sat at my desk in Sanborn Place.
Ripped from the haunted memories of finding Daniel’s body.

The world was a cruel place. It
was a fact of life and even though I knew it was true, I still had a hard time
coming to terms with the atrocities people committed. The cruelties that for
some god-forsaken reason, people thought were okay. Staring down at the
wallet-sized photo now crumpled in my hands, I was greeted by a crown of
chestnut hair, bright blue eyes, a heart-shaped face, and a brilliant smile; a
single dimple on his left cheek. The face of an innocent seven-year-old boy,
cut down like he was little more than a calf brought to slaughter. I found
myself struggling to link the image of this smiling boy to that of the ruined
body I’d found less than forty-eight hours ago.

Unhidden
by Dina Given

Cold marble pressed
against my face, numbing my cheek. My stomach roiled from the spinning of the
room, threatening to release my dinner. I took a deep, ragged breath and tried
to keep the dizziness under control. A voice in my head screamed at me to get
up and defend myself, but my body wouldn’t obey. With a herculean effort, I
pulled my legs under me in an effort to rise.

I felt the vibration
in the floor before I heard the heavy thud of footsteps. The bastard was back
for more. It must be my lucky day. A
vice clamped around my ankles, and I slid along the smooth stone floors of the
mansion. Crystal chandeliers and Renaissance paintings streaked across my
vision as I was pulled through an open doorway.

I twisted and
flailed, scrabbling to clutch the doorframe to stop my relentless slide into
the darkened room. I tried to make it a rule to never be forced into a room
when I didn’t know what lay within.

I managed a weak
handhold on the doorframe, but with a sharp tug, my captor caused me to easily
lose my grip. He—because only a man could own hands that large and
strong—“accidentally” slammed me into a coffee table before coming to a stop
without releasing me.

The concussive
grenade that was triggered when I had been finishing my sweep of the last room
in the mansion had left my temples throbbing, preventing me from lifting my
head to get a good look at my captor. I needed to pull myself together if I was
going to fight my way out of here.

Swallowing hard, I
took a silent inventory of my injuries: a few bruises, no broken bones, no
bleeding. Sweet. This was going to be easier than I’d thought.

Power
Surge by E.J. Whitmer:

Blake sighed and pushed his empty plate away from him. “You called
me last night at about 1: 30am. The only words I could make out were ‘jaeger’
‘nipples’ and ‘spandex’. I hopped in my car and headed over here to find you
standing in your kitchen wearing only your underwear and trying to stuff your
entire face in a pint of ice cream. Apparently you were out of spoons.”

That explained why I had sticky eyebrows.

I held my head in my hands and groaned as he continued. “I told
you to get some pajamas on. You wanted my shirt. You took it. Thankfully you
turned around while you were putting it on. I made you drink a glass of water
and tucked you into bed. I wasn’t sure how much you’d had to drink, so I
checked in on you every couple of hours. I provided you with early morning eye
candy. I made you delicious cheesy eggs. I think that’s about it.”

I opened one eye to look at him. “Did you see my boobs?”

His face split into a panty melting grin. “No. I was a gentleman.
I only gawked at your ass.”

Emergence
by Siana Wineland:

Shivering
barefoot in the darkness, Jessica hid and watched the recovery team flip lights
on in her house. Panic tried to set icy claws in her gut, but she pushed it
away ruthlessly. The arrival of the recovery team confirmed her worst fear: she
must have started the change.

She’d done her best to deny this possibility. But reality now
walked through her home, leaving her in the cold and dark.

She took a deep breath. Fear of what was to come had to take a
backseat.

A large, lean man with shoulder-length blond hair entered her
bedroom. He moved with the grace of a predator, her eyes widened when he
turned, allowing her to see the suede of his wings fall gracefully down his
back like a dark cloak.

They’ve sent a Hunter! Her mind froze in panic. Why is there a
Hunter here? Recovery teams only have unchanged people in them.

The Valkyrie stopped and sniffed the air, scenting her, before
walking over to the window and examining it. He spread his wings, the large fan
covering the glass to block the light from behind him. Fascinated, she stared,
transfixed at the way the light shone through the membrane of his wings.

She felt her mind slowing again. Fruitlessly, she fought the
lethargy that was her body’s natural response to the changes taking place
within it.

It wasn’t long before the Hunter’s eyes found hers, their intensity
boring into her, and he smiled a slow feral smile.

A
Time Apart by Rebecca Norinne Caudill:

As Olivia moved out of William’s
arms, he didn’t fight her but his hands lingered as she slid away, as if he was
trying to hold onto something significant, and for the first time, Olivia could
see quite clearly he was no ordinary man.

“What are you?” she asked, her
voice barely audible above the logs crackling in the fire.

“You know me then,” was his
anguished response.

How could she respond? Prior
to the extensive research she’d conducted the night before, she would have
sworn she had never seen him a day in her life. But that wasn’t entirely
true, for she knew now that she had seen him while she dreamed. She
had seen him lying beside her, touching the most private parts of her
body. And just last night she’d fantasized about making mad, passionate
love to him outside, under the stars. And now she realized it had all happened
before, perhaps hundreds of times. She knew this man intimately … but not the
nightmare version of him, the man who had killed her.

But more importantly, she
realized, Olivia didn’t know herself – that woman from a time long forgotten.
“Who ... what ... am I then?” Fear and trepidation laced her voice.

“Unfortunately, I don’t know much
about who you are today.” His voice broke with emotion. “I only know who you were and when you were. In the year 1658, you were Ceara, my fierce
beauty. You were my wife and I loved you more than you can know.”

William paused, waiting for her to
interrupt with more questions, but when she remained mute, he continued
speaking. “If asked when I was still the man you remember, I would have said
I’d give anything – my life, even – for you. Instead, I took it.”

As his memories drifted back
hundreds of years, his face became a mask of loathing. He remembered, in
starkly vivid detail, the exact moment he had chased his beloved Ceara down,
broke her neck, and then sucked her body dry.

While Olivia watched him struggle
through his recollections, she wondered how he could have turned on her. What
had she done to deserve that fate? And who – what – was he that he could force these terrible memories to the
surface?

“If I was … am … Ceara, who are
you?” she asked, not quite sure she was ready to hear his answer.

“My name is William Macauley and,
as you might have guessed, I’m a vampire.”

Familiar
by Frances Pauli:

She
stared at the graffiti and centered, took a deep breath and imagined her roots
reaching down, down into the earth. Her head spun a little. She reached for the
door with her free hand and pressed her palm against fresh red paint.

Running through dark woods. A
round moon overhead that set fear in her steps instead of awe. Why was she
running again? Midnight, dogs barking behind her and the man. Her heart seized
and she tripped over her own feet, sprawled forward toward hard roots and cold
dirt. The man chasing her wanted blood tonight.

"Ms.
Wallace?"

Deirdre
blinked and saw blood, red dribbles against white.

"Ms.
Wallace, are you alright?"

Paint.
She lifted her hand and stared at it. Red paint on her skin. A voice called
from behind her, but it was light out. There was no moon, no danger. She turned
around and found cops on her steps. The short one, she knew. Officer Peg Stone
had taken her call that morning, in fact, but Deirdre had never expected to
actually see the woman. Still, there was the patrol car parked below, and
behind Stone stood a policeman with dark eyes.

Deirdre's porch rippled like water. Her hand reached again,
splatted against the nasty word but held her upright while the dizziness
swirled around and around.

No
More Black Magic by A.L. Kessler:

I’d never met the Alpha, but I knew this was him. His black hair
was cut short and his brown gaze cut into me. He stood tall and demanded
attention. Like Simon, he was dressed in older clothes, and I assumed it meant
they wouldn’t care if they got ruined. The muscles of his arms were solid and
his chest strained against the tight muscle shirt that he wore. Yeah, I
wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight against this guy, even if he was human.

Simon bowed his head. “Alpha.”

“Simon, so this is her?” His eyes ran over my body and I raised a
brow. I had dressed in my normal black clothes with boots. I had, as requested,
left the gun in the car, but my blade was sheathed across my back, hidden by my
jacket.

Simon put a hand on my back and urged me to step forward.

“I’m Abigail.” I offered my hand, but Greg grabbed my wrist and
jerked me forward. I caught myself with a hand against his chest.

“You are a threat to my people, you offer me the back of your neck
in submission.” He growled. “Do you understand that?”

I gritted my teeth and pulled my braid away from the back of my
neck and bowed low enough that I offered it
to him. My verbal answer wouldn’t have been good enough. He was trying to show
off his strength, his power, and I was willing to bet other members of the pack
were watching from the windows of the cabin. Arguing with him wouldn’t have
done me any good.

Brooding
City by Tom Shutt:

“So what exactly would I do as a Sleeper? I’ve heard only bad
things, and that was when I still thought you were just a bedtime story. If
even half of it is true—”

“We do what is necessary to protect this city,” Benjamin said
tightly. “There are forces that are simply too powerful and mysterious to be
handled by the police. We are the self-appointed protectors of the people.”

“That’s a great pitch, but I meant day-to-day, what will I be
doing?”

Old Ben contemplated this question for a long moment before
answering. “There is no right or wrong in this world, Jeremy. You must
understand that in order to bring balance to others, we must first find balance
within ourselves. This will not be an easy life, nor one filled with thanks from
those you help—they will never even know you were there. You will make hard
choices, decisions that will leave others bereft of their autonomy. But with my
guiding hand, you will accomplish great deeds and protect countless innocents
during your service.”

“That still doesn’t answer—”

“You will kill. You will maim. You will steal, lie, and deceive.
Nobody will know who you are, or what you do, or when or where you will strike
next. The people will never acknowledge your sacrifices, and they will continue
to fear and despise the myth that you represent.”

There was a pregnant pause before Benjamin spoke again.

“Do you have what it takes?” he asked.

Altered
by Amy Steaman:

The first snowflakes
of the year rode their fat bodies lazily down to the empty sidewalk Sadie Pratt
trudged along. If she looked up, the old fashioned streetlights would
illuminate their glittery brethren. But she didn’t look up. A cold winter wind
was demanding attention she didn’t care to give as she shifted her eyes
toward her destination at the end of the street. As if irritated with her
neglect, a particularly breathy gust reached out and freed her auburn waves
from a loose bun. In response, she tucked her chin deeper into the plaid scarf
wrapped around her neck and quickened her footfalls.

Sadie’s mood was as
dark as the cloud-heavy sky hanging above her. Her boss, Harvey McDonnell, of
McDonnell and Loeb Law Office had rung her out of a study-induced trance thirty
minutes before.

“Sadie, I need you in
the office in thirty,” like it was a common request. Like it wasn’t 9:30 on a
Thursday night. Like she wasn’t drowning in the middle of finals!

She reached the
pristine brick façade that stood with pride in the little college town of
Weston’s historic business district and flung the door wide. The gratuitous
cowbell hanging on the handle let out its hollow ring. Harvey was already
there, so instead of turning on the lights and starting a pot of coffee as per
her usual routine, Sadie dumped her heavy bag without ceremony at the receptionist’s
desk and marched back to his office.

Harvey’s watery grey
eyes rose over the edge of his half-rimmed glasses to meet her steely glare
then traveled down her slim frame covered in an overly long flannel, black
leggings and combat boots. He chuffed. “You look nice.”

“I’ll wear proper business attire during proper
business hours,” she shot back, fists coming to rest on hips.

The
Message Bearer by M.S. Dobing:

It didn’t so much as walk out of the dark - it oozed. Its
form coalesced from the gloom, a slight shimmering in the air, a shifting of
shadows, before condensing into something resembling a human that now stood,
unmoving, just at the periphery of the streetlight.

Yet this was no human.

Unnaturally tall, easily touching seven feet, the thing wore a dark
suit that hung loosely off a pencil-thin frame. Its head was dipped, its face
hidden beneath a black fedora with a single silver band. As he watched, the
creature’s head rose. Black eyes met his. Something cold trickled down his
spine.

It began to move forwards, its movement jerky, as if it were
animated by invisible string. Its mouth opened into a wide grin, jaw distending
to almost impossible proportions, displaying a set of dagger-like incisors.

‘You see it, don’t you?’

He’d forgotten she was even there. He looked back at the woman,
managing the barest of nods. She reached out to him, her hand shaking.

‘Come with me.’

About The Authors

Danielle Annett is a reader, writer, photographer, and the blogger behind Coffee and Characters. You can learn more about Danielle on her website at Danielle-Annett.com or follow her on facebook at https://www.facebook.com/AuthorDanielleAnnett and on twitter @Danielle_Annett

M.S. Dobing lives in Preston, UK with his wife and twin daughters. His first novel, Message Bearer, is the first in his urban fantasy series, The Auran Chronicles, the sequel to which is due out in the first half of 2016. Follow him at https://www.facebook.com/AuranChronicles?hc_location=ufi

Dina Given has been an avid fan of fantasy in all of its permutations since childhood. She is convinced that magic lives on in this world, and she is doing her part to bring a piece of it to readers. Follow her at https://www.facebook.com/DinaGivenAuthor/

A.L. Kessler is a paranormal romance author residing in beautiful Colorado Springs, Co. Since she was a teenager she has loved spinning tales. She can easily be won over with gifts of coffee or chocolate. You can follow her at www.facebook.com/alkesslerauthor

Tom Shutt writes paranormal suspense with generous helpings of humor and a sprig of mystery thrown in for good measure. Sometimes he dabbles in fantasy, but in all cases, he strives to push the boundaries of modern fiction in search of good answers to hard questions.

Amy Stearman is an avid reader and writer of stories, hailing from the Midwest. She lives in the liberal mecca of Kansas with her husband, young son, and ornery Sheltie. Find her on facebook at https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAmyStearman/

Siana Wineland lives in the beautiful, but soggy, Olympic Peninsula of Washington state. She spends much of her time shepherding her young children, or the goats and sheep she raises. Sometimes it's hard to tell them apart on the farm, unless you hold out a vegetable. For updates on her writing please visit her website at www.sianawineland.com

Rebecca N. Caudill writes contemporary & paranormal romance featuring smart, kickass females & the men who adore them. Learn more about her and her books at www.rebeccancaudill.com or follow her on twitter @rebecca_caudill

Frances Pauli writes speculative fiction, usually with touches of humor or romance, which means, of course, that she has trouble choosing sides. She's always been a fan of things outside the box, odd, weird or unusual, and that trend follows through to her tales which feature aliens, fairies, and even, on occasion, an assortment of humans. More information on her work and upcoming releases can be found on her website: http://francespauli.com

Wednesday, June 29, 2016

From a pack of New York Times, USA Today and Amazon bestselling paranormal authors comes a collection of 10 shifter romances that will leave you howling for more! Grab it today before it’s gone forever!

Walk on the Striped Side by Jessie Lane

Gage Ivanov is a stupid beast. He let the woman who should be his mate go because she couldn’t be told of his Other identity. Now Elena’s back, but she refuses to give in to his demands for her to be his mate. Does he have his claws in her for good? Or is she just yanking his tail?

Alpha Wolf Rising by Eliza Gayle
Before she can become Alpha, Sierra must take a wolf mate. However, she’s in love with two men, one of whom is strictly forbidden. When the pack is attacked and a temperamental stranger from the past threatens to send them spiraling apart, she must choose between love and duty.

London Howl by Hildie McQueen

London Howl International settings, a super hot wolf shifter and off the charts chemistry make this a sizzling read. British celebrity model David Wolfe seems to have everything. However, money and fame cannot take the place of love. When highly recognizable international model David Wolfe hires Genise Snow to be his fake girlfriend, the last thing she expects is for the relationship with the yummy wolf shifter to become physical. Then there’s his ever-present, possessive manager who makes it no secret, Genise’s presence if very temporary.

Dragon’s Honor by Mina Carter

Misson: Protection duty. No one said anything about black magic or the most powerful magic of all. The call to mate…

Bearly Hanging On by Marina Maddix

It may be against the rules, but when a hot eagle shifter lands at an exclusive resort, one employee really wants to ruffle his feathers. What’s a curvy kitty to do?

Her Shifter Secret by Flora Dare
She’s a witch trying to forget the past. He’s a shifter who never wants to forget. But if they don’t worry about their future…they won’t have one.

Maria & the Angel by Jordan K. Rose

If pack law requires every wolf to mate and mating an outsider is forbidden, why has fate bound Maria’s heart to an angel?

Mate for a Month by Georgette St. Clair

Spoiled city girl Eileen Pennyroyal will do anything to seal a business deal that will win her father’s approval…but does that include a mating of convenience to a deeply damaged wolf shifter? Can Eileen convince semi-feral Marcus that he’s worth saving, before dark forces from his past come back to claim him for good?

Werewolf Wedding by Lynn Red

Delilah is barely keeping her head above water. Jake is the reluctant alpha of a secretive pack of werewolves whose brother is gunning to take over the pack. When their worlds collide, will they survive? Or will they end up bait before there can be a werewolf wedding?

Fast & the Furriest by Celia Kyle

One headline changed weretiger life forever: Ladies, like a tiger’s stripes? Tug his tail and keep him forever! Now Ares has a town of stripe-hunting women looking for a tiger’s tail to pull and… a full moon on the horizon.

Excerpts

Walk on the Striped Side by Jessie Lane

Much to her
horror, Elena felt
tiny pinpricks in
the corners of
her eyes as
they started to water up. “Why are you doing this, Gage?
What do you want from me?”

He studied her a moment, watching her so intently that she felt
naked from the inside out. “You.”

“Me?” she squeaked back.

“You,” he answered again with an unwavering gaze.

Trying to bolster her courage back up, Elena snapped, “I’ m not an
item you pick up at the store
or a whore
to be bought
off the street.
You can’ t just
go dragging me
around where you want me, snarling ‘ mine’ whenever you feel like! I’ m a human being,
Gage; you can’t own me!”

She expected the
ornery tiger to
get mad and
snarl at her,
instead he did
something much worse. One side of
his lips curled up in smug satisfaction, and the bastard smirked at her.

“I may no
longer live in
a time period
where one person
can actually own
another person, but make
no mistake, love,
I do own
you. Every little
inch. Every breathy
moan you give
me when I’ m playing with your pretty pussy. Every hungry kiss you give
me when I’ m buried deep inside you. Every beat of that stubborn heart that you
swear doesn’t still love me, and every inch of that fierce soul of yours...
They all belong to one person. Me.”

Alpha Wolf Rising by Eliza Gayle

The distant drumbeat vibrated through Sierra’s body until
her core pulsed with need. Anticipation for tonight's events had been building
all day. Standing naked at the window and staring up at the moonless night sky,
she couldn’t believe she was actually going through with the ceremony. Her
attempt to leave the pack for a normal life at college not long ago had ended
miserably and landed her back home and under the protection of her father.

It had been the ultimate turning point for her. What had
once seemed stifling and restrictive had been the very thing that freed her
from the inner turmoil that had plagued her since her mother's death. The inner
wolf would not be denied and pack rituals were the very thing that kept the
animal happy so that their human halves could function cohesively.

“You look stunning.”

The deep baritone voice jerked Sierra from her thoughts.
“Marek, you aren’t supposed to be here.” She grabbed her heavy cloak from the
bed and slid her arms into the sleeves.

“I can’t help myself, and you know it.” He crossed the room
and gathered her in his arms. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered into her ear.

“It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since we last fucked.
How can you miss me already?” She laughed, looking up at him. Damn, he should
not look this good right now. Nor feel this comforting wrapped around her. It
had been almost a year since she’d taken him as an official lover, and she didn’t
think she’d ever tire of seeing him. Dark broody eyes tempted her with a
constant look of barely restrained heat and aggressiveness. He called to her
alpha wolf—challenged her.

“Have I ever told you how much I love your dirty mouth?” His
lips pressed against hers, and heat flared to life between her legs, tightening
her nipples.

“Yeah, I know what you like about my mouth, all right.” She
bit at his lip, drawing a drop of blood.

A low growl sounded in Marek’s throat, which made her grin
against his mouth. If they kept this up, they’d definitely be on the floor
going at it before the ceremony. She pushed him away, forcing herself to stop
despite the moisture between her legs and the longing in her chest. Her wolf
was insatiable.

“We can’t do this now, and you know it. So pull yourself
together, wolfie.”

He growled and glared at her. She loved taunting him with
the nickname he hated. That was the thing about male wolves. The more annoyed
they got, the more aroused they became, and she’d end up shoved against the
wall with him pounding inside her. Just how she liked it with Marek.

Now Nolan, he was different. Her other lover had the
patience of a saint, and no matter how hard she pushed, he always stayed in
control. It drove her wild, and he knew it. Damn, how she loved him. A twinge
of guilt settled in her stomach, and she turned back to the window.

“What is it, Sierra?” Marek stepped close, but he didn’t
touch. Even he knew they had to settle down.

“I know Nolan understands things have to go this way, yet it
hurts my heart to keep him a secret.”

“So then speak up. You’re an alpha. You have the ability to
rewrite the rules.”

She turned on Marek. “Damn it, don’t feed me that line of
bullshit. You know if my father found out the truth, he’d not make me the pack
leader tonight. He'd probably give the pack to one of his idiot male
lieutenants just because they have a dick between their legs.”

Marek softened his expression with a small smile. “Maybe you
underestimate him. He may be set in his ways, but do you honestly think he
doesn’t understand the heat you withstand? The constant sensual hunger that
must be satisfied?”

She pushed past him and settled on the chair in the corner.
She didn’t want to have this conversation again. It always ended the same.
Tonight was special, and she would not walk away again. The pack needed this as
much as she did.

“I’ve made my decision,” Sierra began on a sigh. “We will be
mated, and Nolan will finally be able to live with us full-time. The time isn't
right for confrontation.”

Marek didn’t respond, and she refused to look up in
question. He would have to get used to his place at her side in public and the
fact that her decisions were final. Eventually, she’d find a way to change the
rules against wolves and their human protectors from mating, but not tonight.

Tension grew in the room until her skin itched with it, and
the wolf whined inside her head. Now it was her turn to deal with the
increasing aggression and her need to prove her dominance over Marek. Yeah
right. That would be an interesting fight. He gave as good as he got and always
kept her on her toes.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

“Yeah?” The pit in her stomach grew heavier.

“It’s time to go, Sierra. Everyone is gathered outside and
your father is waiting.” Her father. He’d reluctantly agreed to the change in
leadership of their pack on the shaky agreement that Marek and she mate first.
In fact, she suspected he knew the truth and was using tonight as a way to
force her hand.

This was the first black moon since she’d returned to the
pack, and she’d known when she came home her father would expect this. Her
thoughts drifted to the past and the heartache that lay behind her. She firmly
closed that door and stood. The past was the past and needed to stay there.

“I’ll be right out.” She offered her hand to Marek. “I guess
it’s time for us to go.”

Instead of taking her hand, he grabbed her shoulders and
pulled her against his chest, his mouth descending upon hers.

Forceful.

Claiming.

Those were her only clear thoughts as he took possession of
her, infusing her with emotions and passion that tasted sweet and sensual.

When he broke the kiss, she stumbled back a step but quickly
regained her balance. His gaze captured hers, and she stared into deep blue
eyes dark with need. She wanted to get lost in them. But she and Marek had a
duty...

London Howl by Hildie McQueen

"Genise." A husky, deep voice permeated through the clouds
of sleep and Genise snuggled closer to the warm body next to hers.

"Mmm?"

His hand slid down her arm and back up leaving a trail of heat.
She was instantlyawake. In her sleep, she'd plastered herself against David.
Now she was fully aware of what little he wore. Boxers or something of the
sort, nothing else.

Too mortified to move, she pretended to be half-asleep and let out
a long breath.

"This is dangerous." David didn't move away, either.
Instead, his hand continued its descent to her hip. "Tempting me,
Genise?"

She opened her eyes
to find he
studied her face.
"Sorry." Genise moved
away and turned her face
into the pillow.
"I didn't realize I'd
moved over," she
mumbled into the fabric.

"You were fast asleep." He turned to face her. "It
was nice to wake up with your head on my shoulder."

If only she'd woken up first. She’d fully remember the feel of his
body on top of her. Now her
plan to feel
him up while
he slept would
have to wait
another day. Damn.

"Come here. Why did you move away?" With rumpled hair
and half-closed eyes, he reminded her of the ultimate Prince Charming.
Impossible to resist.

She slid closer and he pulled her against him. "That's better
now, isn't it?"

"Yes." No need to lie. "Much better."

"Are you ready for the day?" he asked as his hand, once
again, skimmed over her skin. Every single
molecule in her
body went on
high alert and
Genise inhaled sharply.

"I'm not sure. A bit nervous." Seriously, did the man
plan to hold a conversation right now? Of course, their agreement did not
include sex. As a matter of fact, it was very specifically indicated in the
contract that she was not to engage in any intimate manner with
him. How they
were expected to
sleep in the
same bed and
not, was puzzling.

"Although I am used to it, there are times it all still
affects me. So I understand." He spoke in the lazy language of someone at
ease with the other in bed. How often, she wondered, did he have women hired to
do what she did right now?

Did he have
an erection? Most
men woke up
with one. Would
he rebuff any advances
by her? Why
were they having
some sort of
business meeting while
half-naked in bed? He'd asked something and she'd been too absorbed in
dirty thoughts to hear. "Oh goodness."

She'd not meant to speak out loud.

David placed his fingers under her chin and lifted her face.
"What?"

"Nothing. Just wondering
what I'm supposed
to wear today," she lied.
He was gay. That had to be it.
The part of her heart that had loved him from afar for so long broke. Yet, it
would certainly explain why he did not try anything.

She left her
musings to focus
on his words.
He'd continued the conversation ..."so
it's refreshing to
be with someone
that doesn't give
a fig about designers and such."

The soft, English accent combined with the huskiness of just
waking, was oh so sexy.

"David?"

"Yes?"

"Are you gay?"

There was a moment of silence, then a chuckle. "No. I suppose
you ask because I'm not trying to have sex with you."

Dragon’s Honor by Mina Carter

Being called into the boss’s office was nothing new for
Duke and Baron. Being called in for something other than a bollocking was. “

You sure she said
we weren’t in
trouble?” Baron rumbled, the
deep note of his
dragon evident in his voice as he slouched in the chair next to Duke and
glowered at his reflection in the
window opposite. Given
the nature of
the agency’ s work
the PPA offices
were open twenty-four-seven, so
the window looked out onto the darkness of night.

Duke cast a glance the same way. Twins whose adoptive parents had decided
that noble names would give their kids something to aspire to, they weren’t identical, not in human form anyway. As humans
they looked alike, obviously brothers but that was where it ended. It was only
in their shifted forms
that they were
truly identical. Whether
or not that
was the way with
shadow-dragons, he had
no idea. Dumped
on the steps
of a hospital when
they were days old, they’ d never met their parents, nor indeed any
others of their kind. It had only been their adoptive father’ s research that
had given them a name for what they were. Seemed that shadow-dragons were as
rare as rocking horse shit, so getting more info was a no-go. Story of their
lives. “

Apparently not. ” Duke shrugged. “She just said she wanted to talk to us about
a job.” He reached
up, caught his
hair at the
nape of his
neck and snapped
the band from
his wrist around it
in a low
pony-tail. Unsnapping a
second he held
it out to his
brother. Baron glared at it as if
it were a venomous snake. Curling his lip, he took it and caught his own hair
back. Duke nodded
in approval as he studied
their reflections in
the window. At least they looked presentable now. Kind of. “

Why?” He slid a
sideways glance at Duke. His brother was way too quiet. Which meant he was
thinking, which never
led anywhere good,
or he had done something, which
also never led anywhere
good. Especially since
their last job
had been at
a house with
stables. Stables with horses.
Horses which, as
far as Duke
was concerned, were
just steaks on
legs and Duke sure
as hell liked
steak. He also
hadn’t bugged the
shit out of
Baron to stop
for pizza on the way to the offices, a fact that hadn’t occurred to
Baron until just now. “

Please tell me you didn’t snack at the Jenkins.”

Duke turned to look
at him and...yes,
there it was.
The wide-eyed,
oh-so-innocent look that was
completely believable to everyone but Baron. His breath punched out of his lungs
in a hiss just as Iliona’s door opened.

“Keep shut and
let me do the
talking,” he ordered
as the slender
form of their
boss was outlined in the door.

Iliona was human,
which meant small
and delicate. Where
the agency was
concerned though, she had
balls of steel
and would face
down even the scariest of
the paras. No one
argued, not if
they wanted a job.
Work could be
hard to come
by if you
were a paranormal, especially without the backing of
an established pack like the wolves, and old money like the vamps. Hell, even
the elves were organized, but dragons? Nada. Those that had to work were
relegated to niche
jobs or, Duke
shuddered, construction. He fucking
hated construction work. The
agency had changed all that for them. Within five minutes of walking into the front
office in desperation,
they’ d been
hired and hadn’t
looked back. Just
sideways and up, normally while Iliona was shouting at
them because Duke had eaten yet another family pet.

This time though, the little human’s face was wreathed in
a smile. It looked good on her. Quickly Baron shut down that train of thought.
He might be a dragon, and rather hard to kill, but that
didn’ t mean
he was suicidal.
All the guys
working for the
agency, whatever their species, knew the boss was in a triad
with the two gargoyles, Cal and Gran, neither of whom

would hesitate to prove exactly why gargoyles referred to
other species as ‘ squishable’ .

“Just in time.”
Iliona stood to one side of the door and waved them forward.“ Come on in, sit down. I’ ve got something I want to run by you.”

Like naughty schoolboys, the two brothers filed into the office with Baron, as always, in the lead. Clocking a stranger in the room,
he stopped, and Duke walked smack into the back of him. Absorbing the impact with a
soft grunt, he cast a swift glance over the guy—suited, booted, and
human by the smell of him—then rolled his gaze to Iliona.

“Ahh, yes.” She
hurried forward, putting
herself between the
dragons and the
human. Their dislike of
strangers, particularly human
strangers, was well
known. “This is
Detective Hammond, he’ s with the
local police department. Detective Hammond, can I introduce you to Duke and
Baron, two of our best operatives.”

Baron’s eyebrow rose at her praise. That certainly wasn’t
what she’d called them the last time
they’ d wound
up in here,
shuffling their feet
like kids summoned
to the headmaster’
s office. What she’d called them then would’ve made a marine blush.

He turned from glaring at his brother to find the
detective on his feet, hand out to
shake. Duke ignored it, taking one of the seats behind them without a word. No
surprise there. Duke wasn’t a talker at the best of times. Baron shook the
guy’ s hand, offering a small, polite
smile he didn’t feel. Humans and their
damn rituals.

“Pleasure to meet
you, Mr...?” The detective let his
words trail off in question.

“No mister. Just Baron.”

“Not all of our operatives are human, Detective.” Iliona chimed in. “And not all of them are comfortable
giving their full names if, indeed, they have more than one.”

“They’d have to have a
surname if they went through the
education system, or if you’
re employing them.” Confusion
flowed over Hammond’
s features as
he did that
little trouser hitch the
experienced suit-wearer adopted
to stop their
pants creasing and
sat down. Baron slumped into the chair next to Duke,
not caring if his well-worn jeans got creased or not.

Boss-lady smiled
from the other side of the desk, her hands folded over the file in front of
her. The
expression didn’t reach
her eyes, and
the scent rolling
from her betrayed
her irritation with the male. Not that he’d be able to pick that up with
his dull senses.

“That would be
true,” she replied. “If we paid them in
money.” Hammond blinked, looking between
her and the two brothers. “ No money?
What do you pay them with then?”

“ Cows.” Baron’s
voice rang with relish as he picked up
on the cue. “Live ones for us to roast. They taste better that way.”

Bearly Hanging On by Marina Maddix

“M’ lady.” Chet opened the
passenger side door to his uncle’ s massive brown Caddy and waved her in with a
flourish, bending low as she climbed in. Her anxiety burst out of her in a
stream of giggles. He gave her a funny look before closing the door and walking
the mile and a half around the front of the car.

Climbing in next to her, he asked, “Where to?”

Of course he wouldn’t have any idea where to go, since he only
drove between Pearce Forestry and her grandparents’ house. She still didn’t understand why it was
such a terrible thing for him to hang out with her. Some weird class thing, no
doubt.

“Well...the tide’s about to change. Go down Seymour Street and
take a left,” she instructed.

The destination wasn’t very far but it still took a good twenty
minutes of careful maneuvering to get the big boat of a car down the rutted
forest service road to the overlook spot. It would be light till nine, or even
later, so they should have a good show.

“What is this place?” Chet asked, clunking the gear shift into ‘
park’.

Crystal hopped out and waved for him to follow, leading him to a
rocky outcropping overlooking a narrow channel. Patting the mossy granite next
to her, she said, “Come sit by me. This is gonna blow your mind. ”

Chet snuggled up close to her, his purely masculine scent wrapping
around her like a tendril of warm smoke. It went straight to her core and
wriggled its way to her most sensitive parts. He never failed to get her all
hot and bothered, but it became so much more intense since he stopped wearing
Polo. A carefully calculated comment about how his own musk was vastly more
sensual than the cologne did the trick, and it wasn’t a lie. If she could only
smell one thing for the rest of her life, it would be Chet.

Bacon would be a close second

Her Shifter Secret by Flora Dare

She stood on the beach, the ocean crashing into the
sand in front of her. At her feet, Danae created a complicated diagram, loops
and swirls, harsh stick lines filled with colored salt and bits of shell. She
paused in her work and looked up at the moon that flooded the beach with light.
She flicked a match and lit the sage bundle. She traced the sacred pattern with
smoke, filling her head with her intention.

Forgetfulness. Freedom from pain. Peace.

The spell complete, she left the still burning sage
in the center of the diagram and stepped back. She sat a few feet away,
watching the sea slowly rise. The incoming tide took the spell and her last
shred of hope slowly into the ocean. The creeping water finally reached the
smoldering sage bundle, and extinguished it.

Danae sighed. The sea had her pain now, and all she
could do was to wait and pray that Neya, the goddess of the ocean, listened and
would grant her what she so desperately needed.

Danae woke up, tossing, the same nightmare echoing
in her ears. Blood, flames, screams. There was an emptiness inside of her where
the pain of her loss echoed. She pushed the blankets off and got out of bed.
She wandered to the window and looked out over the ocean. A storm was rolling
in, and she watched the spikes of lightning strike the water, over and over. It
suited her mood. She felt wild, like she could smash at the world a thousand
times.

The waves grew crazed as the storm got closer to the
shore, and the wind echoed her despair as it howled around her house. She could
not look away from the water-lashed shore. Transfixed, Danae felt the sizzling
power of the storm wrap itself around her. Exultation rose inside her. The sea
was answering her plea. She felt it. Something was coming. Flowing through her
was the knowledge that her petition would be answered.

The storm ended as abruptly as it began. Danae
sagged down into the seat. She was so sure that it was Neya was answering her
pleas, but the horrid etched-in-stone memories were still there, still present.
She wrapped herself in a soft blanket and wept until she fell asleep.

The sun's rays spiked through her window and the
calling of the seagulls woke her. A sour taste of disappointment still lingered
in her throat as she staggered to look out the window. Danae still remembered
everything. Her grief and her pain were still utterly wrapped around her soul.
She stared out the window as a bitter tear rolled down her cheek. She was
staring, half blinded by tears when a large lump rolling in the surf caught her
eye. It was getting closer and closer to the shore and Danae realized that this
was the answer the sea was going to give her. She raced out the door. She had
to reach whatever it was before it was too late.

She approached the water and saw red streaks rushing
to meet the retreating waves. Danae stared at the sea’s offering for several
long heart beats, finally realizing it was a man caught in the ocean’s grasp.
He was tumbling in the waves and she dashed forward, soaking herself, but she
was able to drag him to safety. She collapsed next to him, praying she’d been
fast enough to save him. She couldn't bear another dead face trapped in her
mind.

Danae reached over and touched his back. He was
still warm so she rolled him over. He coughed, spitting up water, and moaned
something she didn’t catch. He was too big for her to move any further and she
was paralyzed with indecision. Should I go for help? Would anyone help me even
if they could get here fast enough? She grasped his neck, feeling for his
pulse. She went weak with relief when it beat strong beneath her hand.

She looked the man up and down, and realized with a
sigh of relief that his wounds were all superficial. Danae shifted to stand,
planning on running to the cottage to grab a blanket, but he moved fast and
seized her hand. She froze as he opened his eyes and his shocking green eyes
locked with hers. His eyes were all the colors of the sea, shifting and
hypnotizing.

She leaned forward, transfixed, pulled in by the
waves in his eyes. Danae was shocked away from him when his other hand reached
out and grazed her check. An unexpected jolt of passion rolled through her. It
had been so long, she almost didn't recognize the feelings flooding her body.
Danae jerked away and broke free from his grasp. I don’t want those feelings, I don’t deserve
them. She rolled back on her heels, further away from the man. He slowly sat
up, his eyes never leaving her face.

Maria & the Angel by Jordan K. Rose

It was slightly intimidating to stand beside a man so beautiful.
As a woman Maria couldn’t help but compare. Were her eyelashes as long and
thick as Dante’s? Was her skin as flawless? Was her hair as soft? Did she smell
as good?

The answer, of course, was no. She was a werewolf. By design she
had shorter eyelashes and tougher skin, thicker, more durable hair, and her
smell, well, she smelled like a werewolf. She was clean, of course, and smelled
fine to humans and wolves. But other Others commented on the “wolf smell.”

She was no fool. Dante could smell her just as much as any Other,
probably better than anyone. That sort of concern could make even the most
confident woman a little nutty.

Pluses and minuses existed in every being, thus they impacted
every relationship. Personality traits, as well as the specifics of each
species could certainly complicate matters.

There were plenty of elements of Dante she could not ignore. For
instance, his eyes were Otherworldly. Heavenly, even. In all her lifetimes
she’d never seen any like them.

Maximilian, the owner of Seductions, had Caribbean blue eyes that
made everyone look twice. Lovely eyes. She enjoyed looking at him as much as
any woman, but she did not envy the vampire.

Dante’s eyes literally held the view of all the world, all of the
past and the future. He’d seen everything for eons. They were the color of
perfectly polished jade and held flecks of darker green, black, and gold,
giving more depth to his eyes than humanly possible.

Whenever she met his gaze, she felt the pull of centuries. The
hypnotic lure was nearly impossible to resist.

Unfathomable beauty and grace dwelled within those eyes. Years ago
she stopped trying to understand. Instead she learned to think past the angel
factor and think of him as a man.

It was what he wanted, how he advised her to consider him. And so
she did.

She sighed as Dante’s hand made the slow descent down the curves
of her body, lingering over the swell of her breast, and continuing down to her
thigh. He may have been an angel, but he was still a man.

He nestled his chin against her neck, and the gentle puff of his
breath breezed over her skin. “This pleases you.” His deep voice was magical.
Loud enough for only her to hear. A whisper into her soul.

Mate for a Month by Georgette St. Clair

“Thank you for saving my life,” she said to him. “My name is
Eileen Pennyroyal.”As soon as she mentioned her last name, she regretted it. A
lot of people found it intimidating or off-putting. But not this guy,
apparently. He didn’t even react. Was it possible he hadn’t heard of the
Pennyroyals? That would be a refreshing change.

“You’re a shifter,” he growled at her.

“Well, obviously.” The eyes and the scent gave it away, of course.
Her eyes were a startling shade of gold. He just stood there and stared, his
warm breath making puffs of vapor in the chilly morning air. She was
disconcerted. He didn’t seem embarrassed about his nudity; he wasn’t making any
attempt to hide it.

“Why didn’t you shift?”

“What?” she said, rattled. He was really making her nervous. “Do
you need some clothing? I’ve got a sheet in my car – you could wrap yourself in
it.” She hadn’t checked in to the hotel yet, so she still had her suitcases in
the car. She’d packed

“Why would I wrap myself in a sheet?” He was staring at her as if
she was crazy, and he was starting to seriously tick her off. First of all, he
was the one standing there starkers with his enormous schlong hanging out, and
he was looking at her funny? And he wasn’t attempting to flirt with her or
charm her at all. Not that she would have gone for it, but still. A girl liked
to have the option.

Fast & the Furriest by Celia Kyle

Ares never thought he’d say the words in his lifetime, but he
opened his mouth and out they came. “You can’t eat a human just because he
looked at you funny.”

His sister Claire glared at him. “He was gonna pull my tail.”

God save him from paranoid tigers. He closed his eyes and pinched
the bridge of his nose as he asked the obvious question. “Were you wearing your
tail?”

“No,” she grumbled.

“Then please tell me, by all that is striped and orange, how the
hell did you think he could tug your tail if you weren’t wearing it?” Claire
winced, and he realized he may have been shouting by the time he finished his
question.

But who could blame him? His mother should have killed Claire at
birth. Not because anything was wrong with his sister, but mainly because
twenty-two years later, she was a real pain in Ares’s ass.

He took a deep breath and tried to find some sort of calm. It
hadn’t worked so far, but a man could hope. “Claire, you know how it works, we
all do.”

Mating was a three-step process for tigers. Sex without a condom
to give their partner a few shifter characteristics and see how their
significant other handled those changes. Then a bite made the changes
permanent.

Neither was the true tie that would complete a mate bond, though.
The most important, the action that once taken could never be reversed, was the
tail-tugging. It went soul deep and formed a bond that only death could break.
With or without bites, that one act couldn’t be revoked. For a tiger to have
their tail pulled, to have that binding forced on them…

Ares’s worst nightmare came to life. They’d been lucky so far, his
tigers keeping to their human forms, but the full moon was so close.

Fuck.

“The humans know it too and all because—”

He knew the end of her sentence and cut her off with a slice of
his hand through the air.

All because of that human bitch you got cozy with.

The human bitch being Ares’s ex, Zoe. Zoe, the luscious bit of
human his tiger still missed. Zoe, with her smile and tinkling laugh. Zoe and…
her camera phone and newspaper connections.

Zoe Reynolds: photographer, reporter, and… Ares’s mate. At least,
he’d thought so. Now she was merely the weapon of his pride’s destruction.

At the moment, his public relations team was working on spinning
the story. They’d been debating revealing the truth versus denying it all, and
then… in came his human-craving sister.

“Claire,” he sighed and leaned forward in his chair, forearms
resting on the edge of his desk. He was tired, so damned tired, and all he
wanted was one moment of peace. “I need you to work with me—”

“And not against me,” his younger sister drawled.

Darcy, the head of his PR team, huffed, drawing his attention from his sister and reminding him he was
actually in the middle of a meeting and not free to argue. “Look, Claire, it’d
be a good idea to lay low for a while. Stay close to the house.”

“You’re gonna let them drive us from our land?”

“No,” he drew the word out and prayed for patience. “I’m asking
the pride to stay out of the outlying acres while we get a handle on things.
You can still go up the mountain, but avoid the forests closest to town. Stay
away from the hiking paths and areas open to the public.”

He stared Claire down, letting his strength as alpha flow through
the room. Darcy whimpered and looked at the ground, her inner tiger succumbing
to his dominance. Now he waited on his sister. She held his gaze, blue eyes
blazing with determination fueled by anger. Their father was an alpha, the
strongest of the strong, and he’d imbued all of his children with that power.
It was part of the reason she managed to hold his stare for as long as she did,
but she’d submit.

And… there it was. Claire snatched her attention from him and
glared at the wood flooring, tilting her head to the side. She clenched her
jaw, muscles standing out, and he knew she had plenty to say about his orders.
Well, he had too much shit to do to listen to her rant and rave.

His tiger nudged forward, its curiosity piqued by his show of
dominance. It wanted to know what all the fuss was about. Curious cat. “I’m
asking you to be smart and save our mother worry, Claire. I’m asking you to stay
safe.”

She gritted out, “If she hadn’t—”

“That conversation is done, and the issue is no longer up for
discussion.” He wasn’t going to rehash things every damned day.

His tiger finally understood Ares’s frustration and source of
anger. It was familiar with his sister’s behavior, and as far as Zoe went… the
animal didn’t want to think about her or the mistake they’d nearly made. The
whole situation would have been worse had he allowed Zoe to tug his tail, had
he joined with her permanently.

The cat understood and accepted the situation, but that didn’t
mean it didn’t mourn. With a final flick of its tail, the feline turned its
back on Ares’s human consciousness and padded to the far reaches of his mind,
content to sleep the day away. It’d been like that from the moment he’d read
the article’s headline and byline.

Ladies, like a tiger's stripes? Tug his tail and keep him forever!
by Zoe Reynolds

Then there’d been a picture, bright and bold, showing off Ares’s
naked body along with several snapshots of his transformation. Oh, there was
appropriate blurring here and there, but they’d gotten the point across.

Just like werewolves, bears, and lions, there were weretigers.

Even worse, tug a tiger’s tail and then the two were suddenly
mated whether the tiger liked it or not. And trying to part a tiger from their
mate could have deadly consequences.

“But, Ares,” Claire whined.

“Claire, if you were any other tiger…”

“You’d have me pinned to the ground already with my scruff between
your teeth.”

He made the threat way too often and didn’t follow through often
enough. Or ever. Dammit. “So help me, I will send you to Arizona. Just see if I
don’t.”

That had her gasping, and her gaze clashed with his once more.
“You’d…” she stuttered. “You’d send me to the desert?”

“Yes.”

“They don’t even have trees there!”

“I’m sure they have a few,” he assured her.

“And no marshes. Or swamps! Or caves!”

Ah, the places a tiger liked to play the most. He rose to his feet
and placed his palms on the desk, leaning over the smooth surface. He forced
the cat to come forward and help a guy out. It grumbled, but did as he asked,
shifting his human eyes to tiger yellow. “No. Savannahs.”

“You wouldn’t,” she gasped and clutched her chest.

“I. Would.” Okay, he wouldn’t.

About the Authors

Jessie Laneis a best-selling author of Paranormal and Contemporary Romance, as well as, Upper YA Paranormal Romance/Fantasy. She lives in Kentucky with her two little Rock Chicks in-the-making and her over protective alpha husband that she’s pretty sure is a latent grizzly bear shifter. She has a passionate love for reading and writing naughty romance, cliff hanging suspense, and out-of-this-world characters that demand your attention, or threaten to slap you around until you do pay attention to them. She’s also a proud member of the Romance Writer’s of America (RWA).

Eliza Gayle is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of over 30 paranormal and contemporary romance books. She lives on a small island in the Pacific Northwest and spends her days writing romance, wandering the beach or dealing with the demands of her kitty who insists on constant attention when she's not in hiding. Before her writing career began, she served in the Marine Corps and lived a crazy life of adventure. Then she read her first erotic romance novel and everything changed. So after years of thinking about writing she finally grabbed her laptop and wrote. To sign up for Eliza's FREE newsletter go to: http://eepurl.com/dYvij

Bestselling author HM McQueen loves entering unusual situations and getting into interesting adventures, which is what her characters do as well. She writes paranormal because what can be more titillating then immortal warriors and shifters? Most days she can be found in her pajamas hiding from deliverymen while drinking tea from her David Gandy coffee mug. In the afternoons she browses the Internet for semi-nude men to post on Facebook. HM resides in beautiful small town Georgia with her super-hero husband Kurt, an unruly boy Chihuahua and a spoiled rotten girl Chiweenie named Lola.

Mina Carter was born and raised in the East Farthing of Middle Earth (otherwise known as the Midlands, England) and spent her childhood learning all the sorts of things generally required of a professional adventurer. Able to ride, box, shoot, make and read maps, make chainmail and use a broadsword (with varying degrees of efficiency) she was disgusted to find that adventuring is not considered a suitable occupation these days.

So, instead of slaying dragons and hunting vampires and the like, Mina spends her days writing about hot shifters, government conspiracies and vampire lords with more than their fair share of RAWR. Turns out wanna-be adventurers have quite the turn of imagination after all…

(But she keeps that sword sharp, just in case the writing career is just a dream and she really *is* an adventurer.)

The boring part: A full time author and cover artist, Mina can usually be found hunched over a keyboard or graphics tablet, frantically trying to get the images and words in her head out and onto the screen before they drive her mad. She’s addicted to coffee and would like to be addicted to chocolate, but unfortunately chocolate dislikes her.

New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author Marina Maddix is a romantic at heart, but hates closing the bedroom door on her readers. Her stories are sweet, with just enough spice to make your mother blush. She lives with her husband and cat near the Pacific Ocean, and loves to hear from her fans.

Flora Dare lives in Durham, NC in a cute little pink house, with her husband, Scott and their hellion of a puppy, HaliToeses. She writes love, lust and mayhem in almost every flavor, and like The Pirate Movie, she wants a happy ending, every time!

Jordan loves vampires. She also loves to laugh. And if you know anything about Jordan, you know her vampires will make you laugh.

A few years back Jordan received a copy of Twilight from her husband as part of her anniversary gift. By the end of that week she’d read the entire series and moved onto Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles. Eight weeks and eighteen vampire books later the idea for her first book came to her followed very quickly by Eva Prim.

The Eva Prim Series follows the night-to-night escapades of The Demon Mistress, a vampire with the inexplicable ability to call demons. With both full-length novels and short stories the series has a bit of something for everyone.

Jordan’s other books include Black Magic Rose, book one of The Alliance Series, where the world is set in a hospital run by vampires and werewolves; and The Central City Romance Series, where members of The Vampire Guard one-by-one find love in the ruins of the city.

When she’s not writing about one vampire or another Jordan enjoys spending time with her husband, Ken and their lovable Labradors, Dino and Enzo on the beautiful beaches of New England.

Hello, I am Georgette St. Clair, writer of hot, sexy romances which star all Alpha heroes, all the time. The road to love may be rocky and fraught with peril, (and humor and scorchtastic sex and healthy heapings of snark) but my shifters will stop at nothing to claim the women they love.A little more about me: I live in Florida. I’m a former newspaper reporter, EMT, internet marketer, cocktail waitress, temp, nurse’s aide (not in chronological order)...Now I’m living my perfect life, spending my days in a fantasy universe where I nudge my smart-mouthed, take-no-guff heroines onto the path that will set them on a collision course with true love.